The Secret
by Not2BForgotten
Summary: It was all for a little secret. It was all for a little loyalty. It was going to cost him his life while the others scrambled to rescue him.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: So here is another FMA:Brotherhood story featuring a much ignored and unused character! So enjoy and don't forget to review!**

Darkness. It surrounded him. Consumed him. Oppressed him. He wanted to escape it but he couldn't. His hands were shackled behind him. Not with cuffs though. Real shackles like olden times an inch thick and several inches wide. So heavy. There weren't enough chain links connecting them wrist to wrist leaving his arms stretched and his shoulders feeling on the brink of dislocation. The discomfort was the point and he knew it. So was the darkness. Kept isolated and in the dark always uncomfortable. Wearing him down. If they had the time they could leave him here alone, not even light to keep him company, so long that by the time they allowed him human contact again he would be eating out of their palms, obeying their every command just to keep them from severing the contact again. That was the concept at least. He was determined not to give in plus he doubted the Colonel would give them that kind of time. Whether it was out of friendship or a strange sort of possession, because he worked for the Colonel and they were going after him, the Colonel would come for him. The only one allowed to mess with his team was the Colonel himself.

He licked his lips and swallowed thickly wincing at the pain it caused. His tongue was swollen and rough as sandpaper, his lips cracked and bleeding. So thirsty. What he wouldn't give for a big glass of cool sweet water. What they wanted. The secret. That's what he wouldn't give. It felt strange to know the answer. What they wouldn't give for something or other. A question that was always left open ended. Unanswered. Except he knew. He sighed tilting his head back against the wall trying to ignore as it throbbed. How long had he been here? He didn't know. They had drugged him when they took him and he could still feel those drugs running through his system making him dizzy and sluggish. It took too long for him to form coherent thoughts. Or maybe these weren't the drugs from that dose? Maybe it was a week later and they'd chosen to continue the drugs after his capture? It couldn't have been too long ago. They were still using passive techniques like darkness and thirst to wear him down. At least that's what he wanted to think. They could well be professionals patient and effective. These were slow techniques that couldn't be hurried. He just had to endure. The Colonel would come.

His thoughts turned towards the secret. He'd learned it a long time ago. It had been an accident finding it out. He hadn't been delving for secrets but it fell into his lap. He'd gathered up all the evidence of its existence. Took it home and mulled it over. It was a serious, dangerous, secret. He considered it's causes, it's implications, its consequences. He accepted them and burned the evidence. That was the end of it. He knew it and he would keep it. A week later the Colonel had found out he knew and had panicked. It was the first time he'd ever seen the cool and calm Colonel panic. The man hadn't a clue how long he'd known or that he'd already decided to keep the secret. The Colonel had always had his loyalty but there'd never been any incident to test or prove that loyalty. His panic was understandable.

He squirmed trying to get comfortable hissing at the bolt of pain through his arm and the chafe of skin against metal on his ankles. They were starting to shred now. He could feel the slow drip of blood eking towards the heel of his foot. His fingers tingled on the brink of numbness but feeling wouldn't fully dissipate. The circulation was just good enough they would merely tingle. He managed to get himself to a corner of his cell leaning against it. He hadn't a clue how big the room was finding it too exhausting to move much with these heavy shackles, no doubt meant to tire him, and the drugs keeping him subdued. How long had it been now? He wished he knew. It would give him some sort of reference point. An equilibrium of sorts. He wouldn't get it. They would never give him anything he could use as a balance. It was a standard tactic. Take away their sense of sight, their sense of time, keep them off balance and wear them down till they start singing. Today he was the caged bird.

His eyes drifted shut his mind shutting down in sleep. Water cold and slushy near frozen rained down on him causing him to gasp and choke on some. It happened every time. Never allowed to sleep. Every time it surprised him. It shouldn't it happened so often. But it did. He sighed and braced himself back up against the wall shivering. The room had already been cold, if he had to guess maybe 35 degrees cold and ice water crashing over him wasn't helping. He pulled his knees to his chest grimacing at the ache in his muscles trying uselessly to conserve heat. He tried to swallow. It was getting harder to do. How much time had passed? He was sure it had only been a few minutes since the water crashed over him yet his mouth was dryer than before and the muscles in his legs were locking up as if he'd held them there for hours. He should his head but no water drops fell from his hair. He glared at the darkness. That wasn't right. If he'd just been soaked like he'd though, just a moment ago, wouldn't his hair still be dripping? Now that he thought about it he should feel less drugged not having had anything to eat or drink and therefore no way to administer it, that he could think of, yet he felt _more_ drugged than before.

Fear shot through him. They were started to get to him. They had him so tired and confused he couldn't even find a thread of coherency to his existence. When did it get to be so hot in here? Hadn't it been freezing just a moment ago? It felt like a hundred and ten degrees in the shade. He thought. Then he burst into giggles. In the shade. Ha! In here there was nothing BUT shade! He giggled until he couldn't breathe and then he started to sob. He couldn't do this. He couldn't keep his head straight. He had to move. Had to find some semblance of stability. The sobbing stopped and he struggled to stand crying out in pain as his muscles pained at suddenly having to function. He fell hard several times before he was finally able to get to his feet back pressed against the wall. It felt like everything was spinning around him threatening to throw him back to the floor.

His body felt heavy and his head was floating away. The air around him burned and smothered him with its dry heat his breathing heavy and labored with the effort. Too hot. So tired. His leg began to tremble as he forced himself to walk forward bracing his shoulder against the wall to stay upright. Move. He had to move. Count the steps, the laps, anything to give himself something to depend on. Something consistent. Ten steps to the other corner. Ten steps. Another ten steps to the corner again. Eleven steps back. He scowled. That wasn't right. He found the corner again and tried the trip again. Fourteen steps. The twelve. Now six. It didn't make sense. Was the wall changing sizes? The illogic of that idea never even crossed his mind. His legs buckled his knees hitting the ground hard enough to make him cry out. He crawled to the corner again and curled up his body throbbing head feeling like it was going to split and mind reeling with confusion. He hyperventilating. Air. He had to get more air. There wasn't enough. Panic surged through him his body buzzing from the effects losing even the resemblance of control. Light, water, anything. Give him something. He couldn't take this. So dark. He was suffocating. He jerked backwards as if reeling from an attacker his back hitting the wall hard arms squashing closer together when his thumb brush his wrist pressed against his pulse. Unsteady and fast, he could barely feel it, but it was there. He stilled in the darkness still gasping for air all his being focused on the throb of his pulse. He didn't try to count the beats enraptured by the feel alone. Always there, always beating. Dependable. His world stabilized.

He reveled in the feel of his pulse. Soaked it up and savored the sense of security it gave him. It wasn't because it was _his_ pulse, meant he was still alive, it was merely that he knew it was always coming, always dependable. His breathing was calmed and normal and the aches in his body seemed to fade. Still there but less. His mind turned inwards once more to coherent thought. He remembered when they'd started asking. It happened often on his way home someone would suddenly be walking with him. Talking about him and the Colonel. Asking questions. The wrong questions. He knew immediately what they were after and danced around answering their questions. When they realized they couldn't lure him into revealing the secret accidentally they turned to bribery. Deliciously tempting bribes. While he wanted to accept every offer they made he' turned them all down resolutely. They weren't worth betraying the Colonel. Finally they turned to threats. Subtle and veiled threats. It was all in the tone, the emphasis of a word that the treats were hidden but he picked up on them easily. As soon as they started he wanted to run to the Colonel for help but he'd stopped himself. If he had then they'd know he knew that he knew and the trouble for the Colonel would double. The very thought make his head pound.

He knew they would escalate. Was expecting this. He'd tried to find a way to tell the Colonel he was in trouble without exposing him but he hadn't figured out a way yet. It took him too long. Four men in an alley with guns surrounded him. He put up a fairly decent fight but it ended quick after the needle of sedatives stabbed into his shoulder. Powerful drugs that felled him in seconds. That was the last he'd seen of light or companion. All that was left to him after that was darkness and thirst all alone. He wasn't so weak that he craved the attention of his captors yet. It would take much longer than this for him to stoop to that. He did however crave their attention for the fact that he would be given more opportunities to retaliate and escape that way. Every time they moved him, unlocked his door they gave him opportunity to fight. He craved for those moments.

Thought faded. Energy, what little was left, disappeared. His eyes drifted shut. Or maybe they'd already been shut? He wasn't sure. There was no difference. Tendrils of sleep encompassed his mind. The water crashed down over him and he cried out as it scalded his skin the tingling hurt lasting long after the water was gone. Hot. Too hot. The air was hot. The water was hot. His skin was hot. He couldn't escape it. He tried to lick his lips but his tongue stuck fast to the roof of his mouth. Then a thought flitted through his mind though he was barely able to catch it. They were dumping water over him therefore there was water on the floor. He could lick it up and quench his thirst even if only a little. It didn't even cross his mind as he threw himself sideways to the floor that they'd reduced him to lapping water from puddles on the ground like a dog. He wouldn't have cared now even if he had realized he was so desperate for water. So thirsty. As soon as the world stopped spinning from his drop he leaned forward and licked the floor. Nothing. No water. He whimpered and licked again elsewhere. Nothing. It wasn't until the fourth attempt that he noticed all the little holes in the floor so small an infant wouldn't be able to stick their pinky finger inside them. They were everywhere. A knot formed in his stomach. The floor was a wood grate. The water was gone. Falman broke into a desperate sob. He just wanted water. He just wanted to go home. Elsewhere in the building a subordinate ran to his commander.

"Sir, he's ready"


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'd like to thank you all for the reviews and offer up chapter 2 and beg for more of those beautiful reviews! Enjoy!**

Chapter 2-Escalation

Waking was not pleasant. He'd had his knees pressed against his forehead curled into a ball on his side trying to ignore the burning of his overstretched unused muscles when they came. Their arrival was loud and rough as they yanked him too his feet and yet even now he never saw a hint of light. There hadn't been any from outside the door and they tied a blindfold over his eyes immediately painfully tight. His legs trembled as they were forced to bear his weight weak with hunger and thirst forcing him to depend on his captors to stay upright. They half dragged him through several halls and rooms that he couldn't track. Everything was spinning to fast. He was glad to have the shackles of his ankles finally. His wrists were still bound and weighing heavily on his arms. He didn't put up much resistance as they forced him into a chair exchanging his shackles for rough ropes tying his wrists to the arms of the chair and then his ankles. He sagged forward for a moment until he felt the relief of being without the weight of the shackles and the spinning stopped. He sat up and tried to keep his chin raised in defiance.

Someone chuckled. He raised his chin higher. His defiance was all he had at the moment. He was going to use it to endure through this. This was the escalation he'd been expecting even if he didn't know how bad it would be yet. He could hear people around him, the shuffle of feet, the clink of instruments being organized and prepared.

"Alright, it's up to you how we do this. You know what we want. We'll stop when you tell us" that was all he got. He shook his head to show his refusal. He couldn't see it as his captor shrugged and nodded to a subordinate to begin.

A hand buried in his hair and jerked his head down the cold steal steel of a knife biting into the flesh of his shoulder. He gritted his teeth. The cut wasn't very deep but that didn't stop it from hurting. The knife bit into him again over and over at his shoulders till they burned and stung. He kept silent. He found himself mesmerized by the feel of blood rolling down his back though he wasn't sure why. His head felt lighter than air. They didn't ask him any questions. They only had one question and they both knew what it was. He would either answer or he wouldn't. They were going to keep working him over until he broke. The knife was gone and there was a strange delay. The pause of assault confused him and he found his sense of balance lost again. Minutes passed and his shoulders stung and burned all the more.

Waiting. They were waiting for him to offer up information. It worried him how long it took to realize this. He kept silent again. If they thought this was all it would take to break him they were sorely wrong. The blow to his chest drove the air from his lungs and a choking gasp. He coughed and squirmed for a moment. He wished he could see. Know where the next blow would come. He felt surrounded and vulnerable. A fist slammed against his lower back. He screamed this time. The blows came faster and harder. Everything blurred together. Pain everywhere. He couldn't breathe. The chair overturned with a kick to his chest something a rib snapping audibly. Spots filled his vision. The kicking didn't stop. Over and over they smashed their heavy boots against his chest, stomach back. It wouldn't stop. He struggled just to breathe. Air. He needed air. The last thing he knew was the snapping of another rib and everything went away.

Waking was abrupt. A hand in his hair uprooted some strands yanking his head back sharp and fast. He cried out in surprise and pain a muscle in his neck pulled. Maybe torn. He listened to the shuffle of feet. Three people maybe? His head was pounding harder than before and his stomach growled and ached desperate for food. He'd thought he was past those hunger pains. They'd come before too and then faded. How long ago was that? He couldn't even guess. It felt like a day and it felt like a month.

"Are you interested in talking yet?" the voice suddenly so close to him, hot breath brushing his ear, he startled.

"Give me some water and I'll consider it" he rasped. His throat burned hotter with every word. There was a chuckle.

"We were going to give you some anyways, so deal" he stretched his head further backwards a grip clenching down on his jaw at the joint forcing it open. He groaned at the pain slightly distracted as a rubber house was shoved into his mouth almost to his throat followed by a squeak.

Water exploded from the hose overwhelming his throat. Choking and gagging he tried to scream but even that was drowned out the scalding water rushing down his throat. He thrashed with all his might the wooden chair screeching as it shifted and jumped about the floor. Muscles in his neck tore still held tight the skin at his wrists and ankles tearing almost immediately the blood coating them. Everything faded. He didn't know it as the hose was pulled from his scorched throat and a kicked to his diaphragm starting up violent vomiting the expelled water splashing. They waited until he finished, was breathing normally and showed signs of being fully aware again before ramming the hose into his throat again and that awful squeak. The water was half frozen chunks of ice nicking and biting into the flesh of his esophagus as he struggled. Over and over again the pattern repeated. The hose shoved down his throat. The water boiling then near frozen. A kick to the diaphragm and he's vomiting and then a short recovery which does nothing for his recovery and it begins again. His wrists are numb feeling like the ropes were tightening as he struggled, hands soaked in his own blood. At some point, he couldn't remember when his elbow slipped free of its socket and his wrist had a throb to the bone that hadn't been there before.

He breathed harshly between sobs his throat burning like hot coals body trembling. How many times had they tried to drown him? Ten? Twenty? He'd lost count. He couldn't track what was going on around him. His captors allowed him to stay sagged forward as far as the ropes would allow having some coiled about his shoulders pinning him to the back of the chair the muscles in his neck feeling shredded. He was barely aware enough to feel as they pressed sticky electrodes all over his torso. The part of his brain still able to think wondered why they were waiting so long to shove the hose down his throat again. He both enjoyed and feared the strange respite.

Then it started. Volts of electricity ripping through his body every muscle jumping and trembling the world fading in and out as he thrashed against his will teeth clenched but the scream still escaped. Time escaped him again. Fast or slow neither an option. It was just gone. Either sweat or tears streamed down his face. He couldn't tell which. Maybe both. The charge stopped. The pain didn't. He would never know how long he twitched and spasmed gasping that was half a sob. They waited just long enough for his breathing to almost normalize and the twitching to subside except for the smallest of tremors before flipping the switch blasting him with electricity once more. Again and again they flipped the switch. On and off. Off and on. It never stopped. If anyone was talking he didn't hear. He never heard when the guy in charge demanded the power increased. Didn't hear as he demanded they hold the charge longer. He certainly didn't hear when his heart stopped.

His captors panicked. They hadn't even noticed the lack of heartbeat until the charge was off for a while and the tremors stopped. Every other time he'd been sobbing and gasping at this point yet here he remained unmoving. And then the realized. He wasn't just unmoving he wasn't breathing either. One burst into action kicking the chair to the floor so he was on his back and began compressions and breathing for him cursing between attempts. He couldn't die yet. It was far too soon for them to kill him. They'd barely gotten started. Then he coughed and gasped his body jerking for a moment before going still again but still breathing weakly, his heart beat shaky and erratic at best but there once more. His captors sighed with relief slipped an oxygen mask on him and put an i.v. of a half filled water jar attached. It wasn't enough to slake his thirst, would make him thirstier even because his body would be give some but not enough of what it needed, and it would stabilize him. As soon as he began to show signs of returning consciousness they took the mask and the unfinished i.v line from him and sat the chair back up.

They didn't let him rouse fully before they began their ministrations once more. The electricity they put away however in exchange for drug filled syringes. Clearly he couldn't handle the electrocution. He wasn't strong enough for that technique. He hissed as they stabbed the needle into his neck then stood back until they were working at full strength. The hallucinogenic started to work quickly given the way he was whimpering and pulling away from imaginary monsters. After a moment longer one of the men stepped up for his turn holding a wood stick about twice the thickness of his thumb and about two feet in length. He drew it back and slammed it against Falman's cheek bone. He screamed in pain and fear as the monster leapt at him hitting its mark. Blow by blow against his face, his jaw, his cheek, his temple, dizzying and terrible making him scream in as much pain as fright as monsters of unrealistic make leapt at him pounding and devouring him alive but never would he die. His body trembling heart racing, breaths labored and too shallow. In the distance, as if the wind he could hear laughing. His pulls at the ropes weakened. Less and less did he try to dodge the monsters. He didn't have the strength. In some ways he was ready for them to win. Ready for them to kill him. Anything to end this unending cycle of pain and fear. He didn't really want to die yet but he didn't want to keep playing this game. He didn't fight it as oblivion consumed him.

Needle after needle marred the skin at his neck. Some made him see things that weren't there, one made his heart pound his system rush with adrenaline and body quiver with unexplained fright. His captors mostly stood back for that one but occasionally they would lean in close and breath on his neck or ear and revel in his scream of fright. A gentle brush of a finger against the torn flesh of his back or tracing his bruised jaw line spiking the terror beyond enduring. He would never be able to decide which had been worse, the one that caused him unadulterated fear or the one that burned his nerves stabbing and enhancing their sensitivity so even the gentle caress of the softest breeze was agony. Like fire against his skin. A simple brush of skin on skin sent him screaming in agony and the blow of a fist to his jaw or an already broken rib was a pain that took his voice from him. So much pain he couldn't even scream. Nothing made sense. He couldn't grasp a coherent thought. If they asked him questions he was beyond hearing. He had no idea how much time was really passing. His stomach didn't burn with hunger anymore though the weakness of starvation pervaded his body and his tongue too swollen with thirst to even move sticking to the roof and floor of his mouth now.

He couldn't understand the source when the overwhelming stench of gasoline filled his nostrils and a strange feeling of something cold and wet covered his body. Then the burning came. It built gradually. Agonizingly. It never stopped, never faded. Just burned hotter and longer spreading all over his body. He couldn't distinguish one pain from another. He could barely make his lungs breathe the pain oppressing him so cruelly. If there was ever a pause to let him recover between ministrations he wasn't aware of it. Awareness was gone now. There was only pain. He couldn't even hold to the thought that had been fueling his endurance. The Colonel will come for me didn't ring through his head anymore. Only pain. Always pain.

"This isn't working. Get the Alchemist"


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Awww, no reviews for the last chapter! I'll just have to hope you enjoyed it. Now, may a bad day good by reading this one and leaving reviews!**

Chapter 3-Fading

So long now. It had been so long. The pain he felt was beyond any description. Unlike anything he'd ever felt before or even thought was possible. He had no control over his body. His muscle gave up any movement beyond his heart beating and his lungs breathing long ago. It just wasn't worth it. He was too dehydrated to even cry now. The pain was too intense to allow it anyways. They circled him like vultures. He couldn't see it or even hear it over the buzz in his head that never stopped but they _always_ circled him when they were breaking him so it was just a given fact. He felt a sharp pinch at his neck but it was overwhelmed by the roar of pain surging through his body. He could see but he couldn't. Strange human shaped monsters stood before him with horns and shredded wings and appendages so bizarre there was no description. He creatures sneered and then laughed. He trembled. Not again. Please. Not again. It charged the sound of crackling lightning filling his ears. It ran at him. Passed right through. Pain like fire and acid tore through his body. He screamed but he didn't. He died but he lived. He gave up but didn't talk. He was beyond being able to talk now.

Drifting. No. Sinking. Or was he floating? Nothing made sense. The crackle was gone but the buzz in his head was stronger. He was pretty sure they'd cleaved his skull into a thousand pieces. Felt like it. His head felt so heavy. Couldn't lift it. Couldn't move it. Yet it was lighter than air floating away from him. His mind wandered. He couldn't really manage coherent thought but ideas and concepts would manage to flit by almost to fast to catch every now and then. It was this lack of control, the extent of disorientation and confusion that had him wondering if he remembered to buy the food for Fuery's newest pet. What was it anyways? Cat? Fish? Rhino? He couldn't recall. Different brands of food bags were dancing in his mind calling to him to buy them. Then they were joined by bills he couldn't remember if he'd paid yet. The overbearing crackle pain and then a flash of white and everything was gone.

Buzzing. It wasn't just in his head now tormenting him like a hive of bees in his skull. It was everywhere. His whole body buzzing and jarred with pain. It didn't increase or decrease. Just a constant never ending buzz of pain. He languished in it. It was both better and worse than before. It felt like over all the pain was less than when it had been mounting and receding but it was still agony. He could think. It was a shock to realize. For the first time in years? Minutes? Days? He didn't know. He could _think_. And the thought of home. He just wanted to go home. Wanted to get on his big cushy bed and disappear in a mountain of warm blankets where no one could see him. Safe. Faces bobbed blurry in his mind and he felt his heart wrench with longing and need. He _needed_ them to find him. Save him. He longed for that sense of safety they gave. Nothing would hurt him with them around. _Nothing._

Crackles and screams drove everything away. They came in short abrupt bursts driving the air from his lungs and doubling the pain then disappearing without a trace before pounding him again. The pace irregular and abrupt always catching him by surprise. He couldn't breathe. The air was too heavy. Too thick. Strange noises all around him. Wrong noises. He couldn't hear what they were but they were wrong. Didn't belong. Not here. Not now. The crackle, no, it was a roar now all encompassing. The air was gone. Not heavy and thick just _gone._ His body thrashed against the pain. He didn't know it. The noise that didn't belong closed in around him fast. He didn't know. He stopped thrashing. Stopped struggling. He knew one thing. He was done. Done playing their game. Done with it all.

"Falman!" He couldn't hear them. Fuery skidded to a stop crying out with horror at seeing Falman limp hanging over the back of the chair his head tilted down at a painful angle blindfolded, bloody bruised and barely breathing. He pulled him to slump forward cupping his bruised swollen face yanking the blindfold away exposing weeping sores.

"Oh Falman, can you hear me? Falman?" He called but the only response was his eyes barely slit open scrunched closed against the sudden blinding light. He sawed angrily at the ropes binding his wrists growling as he pulled them away finding the skin so torn bone was exposed. The final ropes fell away and Falman slumped against Fuery insensible nearly throwing them both to the floor. With a small struggle Kain got Falman lying on the floor flat.

"Can you hear me? Falman, c'mon Falman answer me" he begged him. He felt his heart beat and listened to his breathing. Wrong. It all was wrong. He was getting so pale and going paler with each passing second. His breaths were hitching and hesitating. Longer each time. Shallower too.

"Hughes! Hughes! Help! Something's wrong I don't know what to do!" he panicked. Hughes was standing over them protectively firing shots at the culprits still alive. It was their job to get to Falman and get him free and safe from this place but one look at him and Hughes knew they'd have to guard him here. He wasn't safe to move.

"Havoc cover us!" He bellowed. He saw the blonde shift positions and they were clear. He dropped next to Falman peeling back his eyelids scowling at the uneven pinpoint pupils then at the racing erratic pulse and the shallow almost-not breathing condition.

"Fuery see if any of those takes are clean oxygen" he ordered surprised to see Falman's eyes still open. Conscious then. Barely. They were dull and glazed unaware of anything around him. Then he saw it.

A thin tight cord the same color as his skin fastened around his neck choking him. Hughes flicked out a knife and as gently as possible cut it away drawing only a small amount of blood. Falman coughed and wheezed for a moment but his breathing improved very little. Fuery returned quickly and slipped an oxygen mask over Falman's mouth and nose. Now that that particular crisis was handled Hughes realized the overpowering stench of gasoline emanated from Falman. He leaned forward peeling up a bit of his shirt and inhaled then cough. Soaked with gasoline. The others broke away from the fight their opponents dead around them.

"He's soaked in gasoline Fuery find something to wash it off, Breda find some clean clothes or blankets, anything." They ran off hurriedly while Maes tore away the clothes to stop it from burning him. Fuery yelped.

"This water's almost frozen!" he turned to the second water hose and screeched.

"This one is boiling! We can't use either of these!" he held his scalded hand to his waist. Roy swooped in on him whipping out a piece of chalk they never knew he carried scratched out a messy array there was a sharp crackle and the hoses were combined the water hot and cold mixing. Roy tested the water.

"It'll do." Roy snapped. His blood was boiling at the sight of Falman's left side; The worst of the burns. It covered his side from the upper hip tapering up almost to his armpit from front to back the flesh peeling and weeping bloodily but unlike fire burns it was red. So red lobsters seemed a pale pink in comparison.

Vato didn't react much as the rinse the gasoline from his body starting at his hair and working their way down. He still stared insensible eyes half lidded and dull. His breathing hitched a few times, they suspected because of pain, but that was the extent of his reactions; Until they reached the burn on his side. The moment the water contacted the burn he screeched. Or he tried. What came out was a cracked rasp that tried to be a vocalization of his agony. He writhed as best he could but there was nothing left. No strength. They finished the flurried patch job wrapped him in the dry blankets loaded him in the truck and skidded away.

The ride was miserable. It was long despite how fast Breda was speeding. And rough. Every pebble on the earth came to litter the roads they needed. Fuery sat with Vato while Maes knelt before the seats keeping a hawk's watch for crisis and patched up what couldn't wait. Roy sat passenger seat up front cursing the whole way and giving Breda directions while Havoc and Riza sat in the truck bed ducking out of the wind best they could and working to staunch the bleeding from a nasty bullet wound in his gut. They'd been on the road a lousy hour when Falman began to shiver and gasp uncontrolled shock setting in deep. Breda pressed the pedal to the floor. It felt like they never moved. They had to travel faster. The truck needed more speed. Falman needed more strength. Havoc more blood. Roy needed the fearful panic to ebb enough for him to stop fidgeting and _showing_ how scared he was for his team. He hated when they put him in situations where he had to _show_ how much he cared and worried about them. He'd have his revenge later. Paperwork. Lots of paperwork. But first he'd keep them alive. They arrived at the safe house an hour later. He felt a sinking pit of shame as Hughes and Fuery settled Falman onto the couch, the best they could give him, and he fetched everything they demanded. He couldn't even take them to proper hospitals. They were outlaws for now. Hunted by their own military all for the sake of a power play. By rescuing Falman, by killing every one of his vile worthless captors, they had signed their fates with him as hunted. It was worth it.

He felt the already heavy pit of shame and hate freeze over as he saw Breda half dragging Havoc into the house. His head was hanging and lolling as he was carried blood soaking his entire lower left side from gut to knee almost and more was still coming. His skin was white as a sheet and the shivering was clearly visible.

"M'kay…Help..Falman" he mumbled words slurring and whispered. Breda seemed to be ignoring him as he should and sat him down up against the wall. He wished he had at least beds for them but he'd never expecting his entire team to need this place, let alone anyone be injured. He took the shirt off to get a better look at the wound but Havoc made a feeble attempt to pull it back.

"No…Cold…" he panted.

"We'll get you wrapped up in warm blankets soon I promise" Breda tossed the shirt away.

Roy stood back watching as Hughes fought to keep Falman alive and Havoc faded fast. He was useless. It wasn't even raining. His team was in shambles. Turned against by the very military they served. They were hiding. Hurt and alone. And he didn't have a clue how to fix this.

Useless.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Here's chapter four for y'all!**

Chapter 4-Getting By

Roy leaned against the doorway. He was hovering at a distance over Falman and Fuery. Vato was deeply asleep as usual and Fuery sitting next to it slumped on the edge also asleep. It had been almost a week since they found Vato. A long week. He was still with them, though they weren't sure why. By all they could figure he should be dead but still he hung on. Fuery was refusing to leave his side. The kid was scared. This was worst case of brutality he'd ever seen and it had shaken him. It wasn't helping that while Vato was holding on, it was just barely. Forty pounds in two weeks. He couldn't imagine what they'd done to him to wreak such damage. Describing him as skin and bones seemed to hearty. He was so much frailer looking than that. They mushed up all the hearty fattening foods they could into the broth they were managing to get him to drink, even if it was an automatic reflex.

The shuffle of blankets drew his attention to the small cot they'd managed to find. On it lay Havoc unnaturally pale except for the flush of fever and covered in sweat. His face was pinched with pain as he stared at the wall not aware he was being watched. It was the only time he let it show how miserable and pained he felt. He wasn't doing near as well as he tried to make everyone think. He grimaced and flopped onto his back slinging an arm over his eyes. Roy scowled seeing the slowly growing stain of blood on the bandage. It shouldn't be bleeding again.

"Let me look at that" he grabbed the med kit sitting on the cot next to him.

"M'fine" he rasped shifting away to keep him from touching the wound.

"You're bleeding again we don't have a supply of blood here so just shut up and let me tend it" Havoc tried to glare but his eyes were glazed and unfocused. The very thought of anyone touching the wound made his stomach twist in knots with dread. It felt like there was an electrified fire roaring in his side.

"I'm fine" he tried again. Roy ignored him peeling away the soiled bandage not mentioning the grimace he saw sweep over Havoc's expression. Worry clenched his heart. Again the wound was inflamed and bright red seeping blood and a little of something else. Mustang grabbed the bottle of iodine.

Havoc tried to roll away but his whole body felt shaky and disobedient and he managed to put him closer to Roy with better access to the wound. He jerked swallowing back a cry of pain when Mustang began pulling and pushing at the wound to force it to drain. The Colonel was merciless with his thorough work dissolving him to writhing and whimpering biting his lip to hold back the cry. The iodine splashed and his vision sparkled and the world fuzzed over.

"Havoc. Havoc can you hear me?" He wanted to answer but the fire in his side was crackling and roaring. Everything was kind of spinning but not. Maybe he was spinning. The voices had a bit of a distant echo to them. He never noticed the needle slip into his arm.

"Hang on Havoc the morphine will be working soon" The promise was a good one. Soon he felt his tense body relaxing and the pain losing it's sharp molten edge. He could breath again.

"How're you feeling now?" the voice sounded a little distant still. Havoc swallowed thick a few times.

"Hughes?" That wasn't right.

"Yeah"

"What happened to the Colonel?" Hadn't he just been here? Wasn't he the one that started the pain? Well, started making it worse.

"Oh, he went to bed hours ago" Havoc scowled.

"What?" Hughes stood and went to the far too near table messing with objects Jean couldn't see.

"You've been out of it for a few hours Havoc. Roy finished cleaning the wound readied it and gave you a bit of morphine"

"Oh" he shifted trying to get more comfortable.

"Here, try and eat this" Hughes held out a steaming bowl of broth and vegetables.

"I'd rather not" Havoc grimaced.

"You eat it or you listen to me gush about Gracia and out upcoming child. She's all aglow and ravishing! I could just hug her and squeezer her all…" Havoc started eating. Hughes let him alone to mill around the cabinets consolidating what was left. Supplies were fast dwindling.

He scrubbed his forehead trying to concentrate. There had to be a way to make the supplies last longer. It was too dangerous to go out for more still. The military could smell blood in the water and were circling. He sighed. His gaze shifted to Falman, Fuery having slipped off the edge of the couch sleeping curled against the foot of it like a puppy. He wasn't doing well at all. They all liked to fool each other talking about he was getting rest and the food was doing any good but it wasn't. He slept all hours of the day and he wasn't gaining weight. His wounds, even the small ones, weren't healing up. Very few had even managed to scab over. He'd been driven to such a state of exhaustion his body couldn't even heal the smallest of cuts or bruises. Something had to be done.

Two in the morning rolled around. Everyone slept soundly. The sound of the whimper barely pierced the sleepy haze of Roy's mind. He rolled over a louder groan finishing his awakening. He sat up blinking to adjust to the darkness before looking for the source. He glanced at Falman but he was deep unconscious as usual. Another moan sounded. Havoc. He squinted at the cot. The Lieutenant was not awake that he could tell but he writhed on his back the blankets tangling severely his breathing harsh and fast between moans of pain. Roy rushed over finding Havoc with his eyes scrunched, face pinched and jaw clenched.

"Havoc?" he pressed his palm to his forehead cringing and the heat rolling off him in waves sweat dripping to the sheets beneath him. Havoc flinched away from his touch writhing more.

"C'mon Havoc don't do this" he growled yanking the blankets away off the cot. Blood soaked the bandage and the bed beneath him in a great pool. Jean lurched vomiting over the side of the cot violently. The others jolted awake. Fuery was kneeling at his head running a hand through his hair trying to draw his attention, talking to him, anything to show he could hear them. Breda looked lost.

"What're we going to do?" he murmured. They needed to clean and stitch it so the wound would actually close but all the stitches had been used for Falman. They only had a few drizzles of iodine left and they were starting to pick out bedding material to make into bandages so they'd be ready when needed.

"We need to get something that will say in the wound and keep it clean. The iodine always drains and infection takes again" Roy grumbled. The room was silent for a moment as they all tried to think except for Havoc's labored panting.

"Salt." Fuery spoke hesitant.

"Salt?" Breda quizzed.

"If we pack the wound with salt it will disinfect it and would drain" Kain explained.

"You know we're out of morphine right?" Roy questioned.

"Wait, why does that matter? He shouldn't need morphine…should he?" Breda didn't understand. How was salt going to help?

"Because salt is a strong natural disinfectant but it burns like hell. Worse than iodine I've heard. He's already in agony from the infection in the wound. He's going to _want_ a lot of morphine" Roy explained. Havoc vomited unaware of them all.

"What other choice is there?" Roy's shoulders slumped. Kain was right.

"Get what iodine we have left, we'll scrub the wound clean then pack it." The process was horrific. It took a long time to scrub the wound with the iodine soaked rag and reduced Havoc to disoriented sobs. He screamed when they packed the salt and went into shock falling unconscious. A mixed blessing. They were all exhausted, the sun rising by the time they had him stabilized and settled. It wasn't until after they'd checked on Falman, managing to get another half bowl of broth into him, and were settling down for another attempt some needed sleep. And then Mustang finally noticed.

Maes Hughes was gone.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5-Turnabout

Hughes scrubbed a hand through his hair exhausted and strained with worry. He was terrified he'd come too late. They'd been falling apart no matter how hard they tried. Falman and Havoc had been hanging by threads when he left and needed real medical attention they could never give them. They had been wasting away in suffering before their eyes and they couldn't stop it. Now he found himself in the back of the medic bus guarding over Havoc speeding towards the nearest hospital. Mustang accompanied Falman. He was shoved as far into the corner as possible while the medic was a flurry of motion over Havoc. Jean shivered and writhed seat pouring off him in rivulets. His eyes were open and wandering glazed but he wasn't seeing anything around him.

Maes tried to keep talking to him, keep him as awake and aware as possible but the fever sapped his mind and his strength. He faded in and out brought back to consciousness by pain from the medic cleaning his wound declaring there was something in it still, and exhausted into unconsciousness. Pulling up to the hospital was like a sigh of relief. Even more attention he needed. Hughes stood in the hallway feeling stunned and out of balance. Havoc disappeared into the hospital's depths. Was Falman here? Had they gotten here first? He felt like everything was spinning around him he knew so little. Was this really over?

"Hughes!" he startled hand whipping to the gun at his side then relaxed seeing Mustang barreling towards him.

"You're here, how's Falman doing?" Mustang gave him an odd look.

"They won't say but we know its not good" Hughes nodded tense.

"They took Havoc off fast he was in a bad spiral" Coffee appeared but neither Mustang nor Hughes could remember who got it. The others hadn't arrived yet. They found themselves with Mustang sitting in a chair and Hughes leaning against the wall beside him.

"So what did you do?" Mustang broached. Hughes stared into his coffee cup swirling his coffee.

"You know better than to ask" he replied coolly. Silence.

"But don't depend on me again, that was my last card" Mustang cringed.

"How are you out of cards?" he gasped. Maes chuckled.

"You're not as careful as you think" Hughes replied seeing the others piling through the hospital doors. It was a hurricane of questions and yammering as they swarmed around them. Maes kept his distance letting them overwhelm Mustang with their ignorance and fear instead. No one really knew what was going on or what would happen. If their friends would be ok now that they were at a real hospital no one could tell. He excused himself for a while and by the time he returned, laden with plates of food, to find Mustang had managed to soothe everyone's worry enough to get them sitting almost quietly waiting for word on Havoc and Falman. The air around them remained heavy. Their world went from just surviving to waiting. Just waiting.

Waiting to see if Falman would live. Waiting afraid the fever would outlast Havoc. Waiting for something to happen. The was an air of risk around Hughes. Everyone knew he'd done something but no one knew what he'd done. He wasn't saying; Not even to Mustang. Consequences were sure to ensue. But when? And how?

"M'es?" Havoc's glazed eyes wavered.

"Hey Jean, its good to see you awake" he grinned and grabbed the cup of water. Make him drink water even if you have to force it down his throat. It was the demand of the doctors. No one would argue.

"What.." he blinked confused. He sucked greedily at the water when Hughes gave it to him then groaned. His whole body ached.

"Better? Havoc nodded weakly.

"What's been happening? Is Falman still with us?" He let his head sink to the pillow again and closed his eyes. So tired. Can't quite grip reality.

"Yeah, Falman's still with us" his body went lax.

"S'good keep him there" sleep took him. Maes sat back pretending to fill out a book of crossword puzzles and mulled the future.

Mustang prowled the hospital like a predator searching for prey. Life was slowly settling back to normal. Havoc was on his way to recovering the fever nearly beaten. The battle still fierce but finally turned in his favor. The others were back to pushing through paperwork and catching up on everything that slipped through their fingers during their two week exile. They were still avoided by other military men and when they couldn't it was with a sense of unease. It kept them all off balance but they were enduring. Falman was in limbo hanging by a thread but still fighting. The doctors were baffled he was still alive. Any one injury was not fatal but having them all at the same time was insurmountable plus the state of starvation.

He hovered over his downed subordinates constantly. He wasn't letting anyone get to his team again. Never. This was just a skirmish he knew but they'd won this one. Even if it didn't feel like it they'd won. He would rally his team and put them back together before the next assault.

"Evening Mustang, still hovering like a mother hen I see" Maes jibed.

"I am _not_ a mother hen!" Roy snapped.

"Denial!" Hughes coughed.

"You do realize I can light your nose hairs on fire with a snap of my fingers?" Hughes thought for a moment.

"The wife's been saying I need to give em a good trim. Can't pay for the barbering however" Mustang sat in a chair with a visible pout. Hughes handed him a consolation coffee smug with his victory. Falman groaned squirming and then settled. He was doing this more and more often. No one was sure if he was working towards waking or just in misery.

"So what's the official word?" Hughes asked.

"Officially…A rogue element acting of their own accord. Unofficially a sanctioned power play to take myself and anyone loyal to me out" Hughes nodded. Not at all unexpected.

"It would be best to be more discreet with your ambitions, fly a little lower on the radar I'd say but it's probably too late eh?"

"Heh" Mustang scowled. Falman began to shiver and Hughes pulled the blankets higher up on him.

"Where'd Havoc end up?" Hughes asked knowing he'd been released from the hospital at last.

"Fuery dragged him to his shoebox apartment and tied him down to the couch so he'd stay. He was having all kinds of ideas about not doing his prescribed bed rest." Hughes chuckled. Roy had no room to scold on that subject. He was worse than Havoc.

"Good."

"Now that they've failed in this assault they'll wait till things cool off. We've got a bit of time to prepare" Mustang mused.

"No, I wouldn't count on it. Not this time." Hughes cautioned making his exit the threat echoing his mind.

_You got your way today, but tomorrow your consequences will come._


End file.
